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A woman-reader tells how the curtailment of mail deliveries has affected her life. She says that since the mail is no longer the Morning Mail, she no longer cares if she never receives any mail at all. "...it was somehow inseparably associated with the smell of fresh coffee, with the heady anticipation of a new day teeming with heaven knows what exciting adventures. Now that the mail doesn't arrive until lunchtime, it's merely a dispiriting reminder that my day has once again settled into its dreary, conventional routine We sympathize with the lady's point of view that the mail arrive at breakfast time. Unless we see our mail then, we stand a very slim change of ever seeing it again, by the time we return home in the evening, the lady of the house has usually tucked it away in some place from which it is very likely never to come to light.